


Someone Important

by Lulannie



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 02:46:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16925079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lulannie/pseuds/Lulannie
Summary: “So...” Kara ventures, “are you having a nice night?”Are you having a nice night? Really? What are they, forty? At a wine and cheese?“Yeah, it’s— Jack’s house is—““Oh, yeah, absolutely.”“Absolutely.”“Good word, that.”“Sorry?”“Abso— never mind.”-In which neither Kara or Lena have a clue what they're doing.





	Someone Important

**Author's Note:**

> Frequent mentions of alcohol consumption, referenced drug use, potential claustrophobic triggers??
> 
> Have at it.

Kara can’t believe she’s even here. She was so sure that she wasn’t going to come tonight. Alas, the door to the enormous house swings open from the inside and Jack Spheer pulls her in with a brilliant smile.

He’s flanked by a pair of equally attractive, equally popular boys whose names she knows - though she’s never had the courage nor social clout to ever actually speak to them.

The whole scenario is just bizarre.

Jack is her chemistry practical partner. He’s one of those awful, awful people in possession of intelligence and money and kindness and unbelievable levels of genuine humility. It’s fine for them to talk in class, and to make titration calculations together, but for him to invite her to a social occasion? And for her to accept? It’s inconceivable.

Except, she ought to conceive it, since it’s happening.

He leads her into the house, which is already thrumming with 70-odd teenagers. She deposits her alcoholic offerings in his (third) kitchen but seizes a bottle to carry around the small mansion. Jack departs, and she spends the following 90 minutes sipping nervously and constantly from her liquid courage, clinging to the few familiar faces dotted about the party. It’s not long before the drink slips in and the anxiety slips out, and she’s laughing into James Olson’s chest and offering slurred but heartfelt advice to a heartbroken Eve Tessmacher. Just after she safely deploys Eve with a responsibly sober Siobhan Smythe, she realises that her bottle is empty, and so too are the three cans gifted her by James. She fails to locate her drinks but does stumble upon the smaller, emptier Kitchen Number Two.

Empty, bar one figure.

She watches from the doorway as Lena Luthor slowly surveys the collection of bottles on the kitchen table. She picks up each one, reads the label carefully, all the way around, then returns it to the table and collects the next. She does this with the determined attention of someone particularly intoxicated but able to retain the natural grace of their sober state. It’s with that same attention, if less grace, that Kara watches her.

She knows Lena. Knows of her. She’s pretty and smart has easily tameable hair and is part of a group of Greek-goddess-looking girls who Kara would like to believe are superficial and vapid, but from trustworthy accounts seem to be just more of those awful, genuine people. And she’s standing there, in the dark kitchen, swaying slightly and studying a bottle of pink gin like it’s the crown jewels. Kara, full of Caribbean Corkscrew courage, finally wanders over.

She picks up a can after Lena places it back on the table, cracks it open and takes a swig. Even on her numb tongue, it tastes like ass and she chokes. Lena, startled, whirls around, before rushing to the sink and handing Kara a glass of water, most of the contents lost on the floor in her haste. Kara recovers slowly, thanking her through coughs.

They’re silent for a moment.

“So...” Kara ventures, “are you having a nice night?”

Are you having a nice night? Really? What are they, forty? At a wine and cheese?

“Yeah, it’s— Jack’s house is—“

“Oh, yeah, absolutely.”

“Absolutely.”

“Good word, that.”

“Sorry?”

“Abso— never mind.”

Lena laughs politely. She looks back at the drinks, bites her lip.

“What do you recommend?”

“I—“

What does Kara recommend? She’s 18. She’s been drunk three times in her life, this being the third, and a pretty girl is asking her what she recommends. She tries to think of something that doesn’t sound stupid.

“Uh, Malibu and Coke?”

Wow. Wow, Kara. Gone from being forty at a dinner date to thirteen at a sophomore party. Very classy.

Lena nods.

“Yeah, of course, I was thinking that. Sounds good.”

She pours herself half a glass of Malibu, adding just a splash of Coke. It occurs to Kara that Lena knows even less about this than she does.

“Did you want one?”

Kara says yes because Lena is short and her eyes look very pretty from this angle. She’s handed another abominably strong drink. It tastes like the devil’s sweat, and they both try not to grimace through the pain.

They talk more, having to yell somewhat over the thumping bass from across the house. It’s stilted, and they struggle for a little while to find a good topic to settle on, but after a while the nerves settle and the atrocious Malibu kicks in and they’re laughing like old friends. Lena tells a story about framing Mike for the destruction of Mr J’onnz’s physics lab, and Kara grips her arm and laughs into her shoulder. It turns out that Lena is witty, full of quick quips, and gives Kara incredulous grins even when Kara doesn’t think she’s being all that entertaining. When Kara gets the munchies and starts rifling through Jack’s cupboards, she looks back to find Lena’s eyes following her all the while. She shrinks a little under the attention. Suddenly, Lena’s chin rests on her shoulder as she peers into a whole cabinet dedicated to cereal.

Kara’s brain isn’t working, but she hopes that it isn’t the Superman Snaps that have Lena glued to her side.

Kara’s about to say something undoubtedly charming and clever, when Veronica Sinclair stumbles into the kitchen.

Everything happens too quickly for Kara’s addled mind to follow, but she knows that Veronica says something about something funny happening in the something room, and something something looking between Kara and Lena and something realisation something something sorry to interrupt something. And then Kara is alone.

She wanders back through the house, aimless yet again. She catches flashes of Eve and Jess dancing on a coffee table and James making out with a humanoid shape against a wall.

She finds Jack and Mike smoking in the gazebo, and sits down to absorb the weed-infused fresh air. Her mind is spinning, a mini tornado of strong drinks and a very pretty laugh and someone important who was here before but isn’t now.

She absently notices Mike’s fingers twirling lightly in her hair, and he offers her a drag of his blunt. She declines politely, and Jack says something sweet but not condescending. Kara rests her eyes for a moment, and when she opens them she sees their group has grown to accommodate two more.

Jack relinquishes his blunt to Veronica, whose eyelashes flutter as she takes it in. Lena drops, ever gracefully, onto the bench beside Kara. She rests her head on Kara’s shoulder (a little awkwardly, thanks to their height difference) and Kara goes more than a little boneless when Lena murmurs in her ear.

“I was looking for you.”

Kara drops her head to peek at Lena’s face. She wonders, if it were colder, whether she’d be able to see their Malibu breath mix in the air. She watches the imaginary clouds twist between them, swooping out and under, dancing through the smoke at Veronica’s lips, under Jack’s chin, blowing through Mike’s hair and settling in the cloudy green of Lena’s eyes.

Those eyes haven’t left Kara’s, and she’s unsure whether to shrink or grow.

Winn Schott tramples up the gazebo steps with two large bottles, somebody yells “beer pong!”, and things are fuzzy for a while.

There’s a big green table, and little white balls, and Kara makes a shot and everybody cheers and Lena Luthor laughs and two spilt cups and _chug chug chug_ and _go on, Danvers!_ and two more left and Lena Luthor and hearty claps on the back and Lena Luthor and _eat that, assholes!_

At some point the game is won, or lost, or forgotten, and Kara finds herself in a jumping mass of human. People seem to come out of nowhere, and as superfluously supersized as Jack’s house is, his living room isn’t designed for sixty people at once. So Kara is left dancing, or at least jostling with earnest vigour, in a very small corner of the room, a little penned in by tall boys and one Lena Luthor.

Oh.

Lena Luthor.

She’s moving with as much energy as Kara is, laughing, and looking at Kara like she’s the long-awaited sequel to a childhood classic. Kara grins back and takes Lena’s hand before she knows what she’s doing. Lena stops abruptly, as does Kara.

The bass drops.

Lena mimes that she needs some air, then leads Kara back through the house. Kitchen Number Two is still empty, and they both fall breathlessly into a pair of excessively upholstered chairs.

Kara can’t stop laughing.

“I think— I’m gonna get some water.”

There’s a glass with a drop of water already on the table, and Kara refills it at the sink. She’s a little slow to flick off the tap, so the water rushes over her wrist, some running down her elbow and onto the floor. She’s halfway through formulating a pun when Lena’s there with a smile and a hand towel. Kara takes it, laughs for the hundredth time, and Lena’s hands find the sides of her face.

She’s so close.

Kara’s eyes flit to Lena’s, then to her nose, her mouth, eyes again, and back round. Lena’s eyes fix on Kara’s lips, and she tilts her chin up, looking up for a moment with a question in her gaze.

Kara wants to laugh again. As if Lena would need to ask.

Her mouth is soft - not that Kara expected it to be particularly hard - and the first kiss is tentative. Kara ducks her head down for a second, and a third, and Lena’s hands cup the back of her neck, the tips of her fingers just brushing where her hair meets her head. They part after a moment, each looking searchingly at the other.

Lena smiles.

“That was—“

“That was nice. We should—“

“Do that again?”

“We should definitely do that again—“

Kara’s mouth is still half open when Lena presses in again, parting her lips just a little. Lena’s tongue is warm and exciting, and she drags her teeth once, lightly, over Kara’s bottom lip. Kara breaths out through her nose, re-angling her head to pay Lena back in kind. Her hand reaches round to grip one of Lena’s belt loops, just to ground herself, but she feels herself float away regardless when Lena tugs on Kara to pull them flush. One of them lets out a small whine when the new position loses them their contact, but when Kara’s eyes flutter open she zeroes in on Lena’s neck, where her dark hair has fallen away.

It’s definitely Lena who makes the sound this time, as Kara’s lips meet the space just under her jaw, up to below her ear, a teasing nip at the corner of her mouth, her hand bracing Lena’s other shoulder. Clearly impatient, Lena lifts Kara’s chin with her hand and kisses her firmly again.

They’re in a rhythm that ebbs and flows. Sometimes mouths wander until they’re brought back home. The pace increases, and Lena’s hand drops to paw at Kara’s shirt, untucking it just enough for her to slip up and press against the skin of her abdomen. She scratches down gently, and Kara’s head falls again to the crook of her neck, finding Lena’s collarbone and twisting her hand more firmly at the top of Lena’s pants. Lena’s hand travels up, hooking a finger under the wire between the cups of Kara’s bra, tugging her impossibly closer and—

They’re interrupted by a quiet, third-party, “Oh, shit.”

Kara reluctantly untangles herself, looking round to see Mike in the doorway.

“You need something?”

Lena’s voice is low and threatening and Kara would be lying if she said that the thunderous look on the girl’s face wasn’t absolutely doing something for her.

“No, no!” Mike exclaims, raising his hands in defence, “I’m just like, passing through. Look at me pass!”

He rambles to the other end of the room and back to the door. In all fairness, he’s probably stumbling as fast as someone in his state can, but it’s excruciatingly slow nonetheless.

“Consider me passed. Passed through. Gone. You guys have fun!”

He slips out the door.

Kara is scared to turn back round to Lena, who’s probably now realised she’s been making out with awkward wallflower Kara Danvers, and will politely but firmly remove herself from the situation and feign amnesia if ever it’s brought up again.

But Kara is still more than a little buzzed for multiple reasons and more than a little uninhibited.

So, she faces Lena again.

And Lena is smiling again.

“How about we take this somewhere more private?”

Kara’s mouth suddenly feels very dry.

‘Somewhere more private’ turns out to be the (fourth) bedroom on Jack’s third floor, and if Kara weren’t being straddled by a very pretty girl she might have taken a moment to admire the duck-feather pillows.

What a difficult life she leads.

There’s a distinct heat pulsing in her face and other regions, that seems to beat quicker and quicker as new parts of herself meet new parts of Lena and the rhythm rockets into a constant hum. Kara’s head is nestled in Lena’s chest while her hands start working elsewhere, and Lena’s nails make artwork on Kara’s back and tangle in her hair.

Lena lets out a throaty vibration that resonates with Kara’s very bones. She does it again, and again, in a suspiciously regular and familiar pattern.

It begins to sound less ‘young lover lost in the throes of passion’ and more ‘Caller ID: Alex Danvers’.

“Shit.”

Lena pulls herself from Kara and eyes the phone, still quite out of breath.

“Shouldn’t you get that?”

But Kara’s having a hard time pulling her eyes from Lena Luthor’s very flushed cheeks.

“No, no, it’s fine—“

A car horn blares from far below the window.

“You should get that.”

Kara rolls off the bed and flops to the floor, picking up the phone with a disgruntled greeting.

Alex is outside, begrudgingly fulfilling her role as sister and personal chauffeur. She does not sound in the mood to wait much longer in the early hours of the morning.

Kara apologises profusely to Lena as she hastily dresses. Lena says it’s fine, but her eyes linger as Kara pulls her shirt back over her head. She wipes some rogue lipstick from Kara’s mouth and pops the collar of the girl’s jacket to better cover her chest. She gives her a last no-nonsense kiss that Kara tries to lean into, and then a smile that Kara can’t quite decipher.

There’s another blur for a while, and Kara’s nodding her head to the music coming from Alex’s car speakers, watching with vague comprehension as they turn down familiar streets that seem fantastical in the watery streetlight. It occurs to Kara that she ought to be worried. Worried about all the stupid things she probably said tonight, or the belongings she might’ve left scattered about Jack’s house, or the fact that she’ll have to face Lena Luthor in physics on Monday morning.

But it also occurs to Kara that she doesn't quite mind.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't condone underage drinking or engaging in sexual activity with someone you suspect to have an impaired ability to give consent! Be responsible!


End file.
